Richard Branson And Holidays
Oh busy Media Bees, what flowers we bumble across as we meander the fields of the internet. I stopped jumping up and down and pulling my hair out long enough to trawl the internet for Dummy Tips. My website has taken on a mind of it's own. Actually, I Know it's possessed. It's behaving like a hybrid cross of a two year old and a teenager. Am not sure whether to make it take a nap or take away all gadgets.
That being said, I did the age old Parent Survival Trick and took a break,by heading to the hills of alternate internet reality.
Having refused to Tweet during the elections due to it being ATwitter with personal rants, decided it was safe again to venture out and give my Social Media presence a Poke. By the by, Who comes up with all these references. Poking, Twitting, Winking and Tweaking. Speaking like that in public could get me into serious trouble!
Feeling very Dr.Seus-ish, I went from Red Fish to Blue Fish to Bird to WHAT? Which led me along a very crooked path to Richard Branson. Now, just to be clear. I like this guy. We have some serious madness in common. The bigger the mountain, the more determined we are to climb it, get over it and just as we peak (not peek) whip out the binoculars and look for the next one.
Having Peaked several times in the past few years, including India, Australia, Europe and the Middle East, I felt it was time to do a little tour of some rolling hill vistas. In other words, I could use a holiday. Ok, I see you all madly waving your hands, like kids in class. Who needs a holiday when you have traveled the world. Me. I want a holiday that involves little(note the word LITTLE) rolling suitcases spilling out beach wear vs four (then the damn Airline regulations reduced us to Two) teetering bags containing your and your son's life. Being handed one of those Umbrella neon drinks instead of counting international currency and comparing costs of yuck-airport coffee.
Oh, holiday where art thou? And yes, it's time to blow my own horn. Having spent a majority of my life doing a salsa combo of saving the world and myself, am ready to pass that particular hands- on Baton to the next available insane person. Why, because only those with a touch a madness can do it. Back to Mr. Branson, (and my possessed website)
Ok, am getting to the point. Point in case. Holiday. Seems Mr. Branson aka The Virgin Man (now that came out a Little bit wrong) is giving away a Thanksgiving holiday. GOBBLE gobble. Now that is something I could eat up and have room left for dessert. Neon colored with umbrella please!
What have I to be thankful for... where to begin, where to end. It's endless. The usual list of devoted insane friends (a requirement to be my friend) great kids who are totally cool in any situation or part of the world, crappy parents (contrary to popular belief, if I had supportive,normal parents wouldn't be who I am today, So Thanks Mom & Dad) so many challenges to do the Impossible I no longer believe Anything is Impossible and well, yes, my cat.
So, in that thread of possibility, Here's to Richard Branson and me getting a Holiday! Now where did I leave my little suitcase, oh damn, I don't have one!!! Rectify immediately...
That being said, I did the age old Parent Survival Trick and took a break,by heading to the hills of alternate internet reality.
Having refused to Tweet during the elections due to it being ATwitter with personal rants, decided it was safe again to venture out and give my Social Media presence a Poke. By the by, Who comes up with all these references. Poking, Twitting, Winking and Tweaking. Speaking like that in public could get me into serious trouble!
Feeling very Dr.Seus-ish, I went from Red Fish to Blue Fish to Bird to WHAT? Which led me along a very crooked path to Richard Branson. Now, just to be clear. I like this guy. We have some serious madness in common. The bigger the mountain, the more determined we are to climb it, get over it and just as we peak (not peek) whip out the binoculars and look for the next one.
Having Peaked several times in the past few years, including India, Australia, Europe and the Middle East, I felt it was time to do a little tour of some rolling hill vistas. In other words, I could use a holiday. Ok, I see you all madly waving your hands, like kids in class. Who needs a holiday when you have traveled the world. Me. I want a holiday that involves little(note the word LITTLE) rolling suitcases spilling out beach wear vs four (then the damn Airline regulations reduced us to Two) teetering bags containing your and your son's life. Being handed one of those Umbrella neon drinks instead of counting international currency and comparing costs of yuck-airport coffee.
Oh, holiday where art thou? And yes, it's time to blow my own horn. Having spent a majority of my life doing a salsa combo of saving the world and myself, am ready to pass that particular hands- on Baton to the next available insane person. Why, because only those with a touch a madness can do it. Back to Mr. Branson, (and my possessed website)
Ok, am getting to the point. Point in case. Holiday. Seems Mr. Branson aka The Virgin Man (now that came out a Little bit wrong) is giving away a Thanksgiving holiday. GOBBLE gobble. Now that is something I could eat up and have room left for dessert. Neon colored with umbrella please!
What have I to be thankful for... where to begin, where to end. It's endless. The usual list of devoted insane friends (a requirement to be my friend) great kids who are totally cool in any situation or part of the world, crappy parents (contrary to popular belief, if I had supportive,normal parents wouldn't be who I am today, So Thanks Mom & Dad) so many challenges to do the Impossible I no longer believe Anything is Impossible and well, yes, my cat.
So, in that thread of possibility, Here's to Richard Branson and me getting a Holiday! Now where did I leave my little suitcase, oh damn, I don't have one!!! Rectify immediately...
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